Page 132 of Sin & Sapphire

ANGELO

Ana hadn’t complainedwhen I pulled the silk dress from her wardrobe or when I’d told her to kneel. She hadn’t complained when I slid my fingers into her sopping cunt and made her taste them to be sure she’d scrubbed that upstart’s cum out of her. And she hadn’t complained when I left her wet and wanting, panting with need and unfulfilled.

She opened the door to Luca fucking Russo, wearing a goddamned suit, looking smug as fuck after what he’d done to our girl that morning, an oversized bouquet in one hand, a white pastry box in the other, and a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

What the fuck was Valentin thinking, inviting him? Ana wasours, whether I’d let Russo fuck her this morning or not.

Jealousy wound through my gut like poisonous snakes, angry and hissing, alongside desire as I remembered the sight of his cock plunging into her this morning while Ana exploded with pleasure.

Russo’s eyes roamed over Ana’s body, snagging on her pert nipples, pinched and painful from Valentin’s clamps, down her curves, to her bare feet, and back up again.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said with a smile. He offered her the bouquet and the box, and she accepted them with a blush, stepping aside so he could enter the apartment.

I hated him.

I envied him.

I couldn’t believe Valentin’s assessment of our gorgeous little slut’s needs included a third man to keep her happy. But if that’s what it took to bind her to me so tightly she’d never leave, even after we destroyed Tchérnov, then that’s what I’d fucking do.

Russo rooted around in his bag and handed me a very expensive bottle of whiskey. “A peace offering,” he murmured.

A grunt was the only response he was going to get to a ridiculous comment like that. He was here tonight because Valentin thought it would make Ana happy to show off her hard work to him. And that was it.

“Let me put these in a vase,” Ana said softly, busying herself in the kitchen with her flowers.

“Ana,” Russo said firmly from the entryway, where he waited.

Her eyes widened, as if she weren’t used to that tone from him.

“Come here.”

She looked at Valentin beside her in the kitchen, and then at me, standing beside him.

“Come to me like you come to them, baby.” His voice had gentled but was no less commanding for its softness.

Ana set the flowers on the counter, her shoulders bowing inward. Was she embarrassed?

That wouldn’t do.

“Now, angel,” I said, adding my command to his and throwing a bone to the Russo kid. Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and trembling, scared, but not quite defiant. She’d fucked him this morning on the couch beside me. Now she’d have to pay the piper.

Shaking, her face red with humiliation, Ana dropped to her hands and knees. One small movement at a time, she crawled over to him, glaring at him the entire time.

Glee at her embarrassment and the sweet arousal I could see on her thighs overshadowed my ire at the Russo boy.

“Look at you,” he said. “So fucking beautiful, whether you’re commanding a room or on your knees for me.”

Ana melted for him, her face softening. He cupped her cheek, and when she turned her lips into his palm to kiss it, I found myself violently envious of his confidence in her reception of his touch, not because he commanded her to let him, but because she fucking liked it.

Russo stepped away from her for a moment and unzipped his duffle bag. He rifled through it, pulling out what looked like a simplified tattoo gun.

I narrowed my eyes, ready to jump in and stop him if he pushed the line. The only ones allowed to hurt Ana were Valentin and me.

“Do you know what this is Ana?”

She shook her head, her eyes wide.

“It’s an implant gun.” He held up a tiny vial. “And this is a GPS tracker.”

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